Guardian Angel
by Lady Avarice
Summary: No one could explain the extraordinary luck that seemed to follow the mech around like a particularly affectionate puppy. Non-slash.


It's been years since they all left Earth. It wasn't anything dramatic or devastating.

They just needed to move on, where the memories of those they'd lost wouldn't hurt so much.

Will Lennox, Sarah Lennox, little Annabelle. Mikaela Banes, John Keller, Glen and Maggie, and so many others.

But none of them hurt quite so much as loosing Sam.

The one thing none of them could prevent, try as they might, was Sam's own brief mortality compared to their nearly-forever. By human standards he had lived a very long life indeed, nearly a century and a half. For them it was an all too short blink of an optic and he was gone.

Bumblebee hadn't moved from that spot, where they'd watched the sunset together for the last seven years of Sam's life, for over a month.

Then he was back, working, doing everything he could to stay busy and keep the spark-break at bay. He point blank refused when somebot thought perhaps changing his alt mode might help with the grief. It was how he and Sam met and he'd never change it, end of story.

When he was alone, he was completely shut in his room, or gone from all scanners. No one had the heart to try and pull him out of his self-imposed isolation when that happened. They all hurt too much.

Somehow Sam had just had that effect on people, making them care when they didn't want to, or even think they could.

Then one day he seemed to go right back to his perky self that the First Team had met in Mission City, that the other landers had come to know over the course of his life. The broody, broken, hurt mech that followed the loss of Sam was gone and back was the bright, perky mech they had all come to care for as a brother, friend, kin, full of life and joy that was so sorely missed.

Sam brought out the best in Bee.

He would slip in to missions when he could, taking the place of this mech or that. Only when he could actually do the job needed. More than once he'd kept a bonded pair together when one or the other would have offlined in the missions.

Times he should have been scrap he walked away from with barely a scrape.

Times he shouldn't have gotten away, he did.

Times he should have been so much rubble on the scrap heap he was fine.

No one could explain the extraordinary luck that seemed to follow the mech around like a puppy.

And through it all he would keep smiling, playing music and sound clips that he had picked up on Earth, dancing to one tune or another, and generally making sure that everyone was as happy as they could be.

Peace, total peace for their race, was so close. The missions were so few and far between now, though exploration of possible homes was increasing. There were a few good choices already.

Ratchet and Optimus were worried at first, and Ironhide wasn't sure what to make of the small scout's determination to go on so many missions. The old gunner thought perhaps he was seeking his own offlining so he could join the boy in whatever afterlife they could share, much like he had at first after the loss of Annabelle.

Finally the First Team cornered the youngling and asked flat out if that was his intent.

Bumblebee had blinked in surprise and then smiled, shaking his head. They watched as he reached into one of his subspace pockets and pulled out a small bit of shaped metal. It was something Sam had given him close to the end, one evening when the sunset was particularly spectacular. In his grief he had forgotten about it, tucked away safe with the other mementos of his best friend until one day a random little glitch had caused the subspace pocket to 'burp' out a few things. The little piece of metal had been on top.

The three mechs looked, taking in the little piece of lead, aluminum and zinc, shaped into an over sized human car key.

"I have the fastest guardian angel, ever!"

The other mechs can't help but smile as they read the simple script.

_Never drive faster than your guardian angel can fly._

And for just a moment, Bee feels a familiar warm hand on his cheek and thinks that maybe those were feathers brushing against his helm.

* * *

AN: I have no idea where the heck this came from, it just did. Might have been a drive by. Please let me know what you think!


End file.
